For You
by JamesTheGreater
Summary: What makes a gift priceless is the reason you give it. One-shot.


**This just wandered into my mind so I wrote it down. i hope you like it.**

**iCarly isn't mine. **

Sam mulled over the items on the dirty plastic table. Some yard sales were better than others. "_This is one of the better ones" _she thought as she picked up a small, brown, ceramic statue of a horse. Sam turned the horse over to look for the price sticker. She heard a small _plink_ sound and found a piece of ceramic in her hand. The horse's tail had come off. Sam furtively glanced around, shielding the broken statue from view. She stuck her hand in her pocket and rooted through bits of lint and random scraps of paper until she emerged with a pale stick of gum. She popped it into her mouth a chewed furiously for a minute or two. Sam spat the wad into her hand. She stuck it onto the back of the horse and quickly reconnected the tail. She put the horse down and hurried away.

Sam found Freddie in between two dusty racks of clothing with a ridiculously large purple cowboy hat enveloping half his head.

"Matches the rest of your clothes, nub."

Freddie turned around and rolled his eyes. "Hardee-har-har, Sam. At least it matches. Unlike what you're wearing."

Sam smirked. "Yea, but I make it work. You look horrible in everything you wear."

Freddie scowled, "Yea, well your face looks horrible."

"Nice comeback. For a five-year-old. You've been stuck with your baby-ing Mom for so long, you can't even insult like a teenager."

"Hey, speaking of moms, where was yours last night? I bet she wasn't at home."

"Shut up, nerd breath."

"Make me, demon."

Sam lunged at Freddie, tackling him to the ground. They rolled over and over in a cartoonish cloud of flying limbs and dust. All of a sudden an angry-looking lady whacked them both with a tough plastic pipe.

Sam and Freddie separated and realized that they were in the middle of the yard sale. The lady glared.

* * *

Freddie was watching the road, trying to ignore the pain from his bruises when he heard the voice of his injurer.

"I've never been kicked out of a yard sale before."

"There's a first for everything, Sam. Now how are we going to find props for the show?"

"I dunno. Let's go to Groovy Smoothies. Blended fruits help me think."

Sam stared out the passenger window as they headed toward their favorite eating establishment. The view of suburban homes gradually changed to one of steel and windows. Stores and businesses flew by. Then, she saw it.

"FREDDIE, STOP THE CAR!"

The black Camry screeched to a halt. In the middle of the city street. Needless to say, they were lucky to not get beat up by a mob of pissed off drivers.

* * *

"Anderson's Antique Shoppe . . . .I hate that _pe_ at the end of shoppe. "

"And I'm sure it hates you back, look, are you just going to stand here or go in 'cause my Saturday's a-wastin'."

Freddie glared at Sam. "Fine."

He opened the door for her and she brushed past him, purposely treading on his foot.

Freddie winced and tried to convince himself that his foot was not in pain.

* * *

The atmosphere inside the _shoppe_ was, well, old. Dust floated through the stale air. Cobwebs coated every surface. The sound of ticking filled the room due to the numerous clocks hanging on the wall. Freddie walked down a cramped aisle, looking. He paused by a shelf filled with bronze statues. He picked one up. It was a fire hydrant. And on the base, in small letters, Freddie read: "To commemorate the founding of the Seattle Fire Department, 1928."

"Sam, there's nothing but boring old stuff in here. Let's go."

There was no sound save the incessant ticking of the clocks.

"Sam?"

Freddie wandered through the store, peering into every row. _She better not have left me here._ He was just rounding the last corner when-

"BOO!" A short, blonde figure with a goblin face jumped out.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Freddie fell back and collided with a shelf, damaging his body for the third time that day. A box was knocked from its place and he closed his eyes as various knick-knacks rained down on him. The sound of laughter reached his ears.

"That was hilarious! You should've seen your face. You were all-"

Freddie opened his eyes, wondering what had silenced Sam's victory speech. She was staring at him. No, she was staring at something next to him. He turned his head and saw an orange yo-yo.

"Um...Sam? Hello? Are you there?"

Sam slowly reached down and picked up the toy, cradling it as if it was a baby bird.

"Sam?"

Sam spoke in a soft voice. A voice that Freddie had never heard before. "I have to have this."

She leaned down and grabbed his hand. "I have to have this," she said again.

She pulled him up and dragged him through the maze of shelves.

"I have to have this. I have to have this," Sam chanted.

Even in her excitement, she somehow found the front counter. It was littered with bits of objects that seemed to be taken apart and not put back together. An ancient man with an extremely long beard sat on a stool behind said counter. He could pass off as Adam's cousin. Sam dropped Freddie's hand. She gingerly held out the yo-yo.

"I have to have this."

The man replied, "Well, this is an antique. Very old and in mint condition. They stopped making this a long time ago."

"I have to have this."

The man looked sympathetic. "Sorry, but I just can't give it to you. It's worth around $200."

"TWO-HUNDRED!?!" Sam turned to Freddie. "I have to have it, Freddie. I want it more than anything in the world."

Freddie had never seen Sam like this before. She looked sort of... lost. Vulnerable. Like a piece of her usually lively self had vanished. He looked through his wallet.

"I only have thirty, Sam. Sorry."

She glanced at the old man. He shook his head. Sam's hopeful face crumpled. She gave the yo-yo one last longing look and walked away.

* * *

Sam sat in the car, silent, staring out the window. A few minute into the drive home, Freddie laughed nervously. He attempted to strike up a conversation.

"So, what about those Seahawks eh? They've been doing well, ha ha....."

"..."

"Uh, how about a smoothie. I'll buy...."

"..."

Freddie sighed.

"Look, Sam, it was just a yo-yo, a toy you just found. Why'd you want it so much?"

Sam turned towards him gazing at him with widened blue eyes.

"I know it was just a toy. It's just that...when I saw it...it just...it... it seemed to call my name. I don't know how to explain it. I guess ...I saw myself with the yo-yo and I was...happy."She turned awayand resumed her vigil.

Freddie was heartbroken. She may have tortured him to the point of insanity, but he still cared. A defeated Sam was something that he had never seen, something he never wished to see again.

* * *

It had been 6 weeks. Sam had not forgotten. Every night she dreamed of the yo-yo. In every dream she felt true happiness, joy. She felt like she was complete.

During the day, she wasn't the same Sam she had been before that fateful day. She drifted around in a haze of senselessness. Her insults were half-hearted. Food was eaten at a reasonable pace. Authority was respected. Night was her only escape, when she could dream about what never was.

Carly was helpless. For the past month and a half, she had tried everything to cheer her friend up. Everything from surprise hams to completed homework. Nothing worked. And Freddie wasn't really helping. He seemed to disappear a lot these days. He always seemed busy. Leaving school every day as soon as the bell rang. He only showed up for rehearsals and shows.

They were in the studio. She and Carly. It was the night of the show that Sam no longer felt was necessary. Carly put on a cheerful face.

"C'mon, Sam. When Freddie gets here, we'll start the show. Please, Sam, put on a smile. The fans worship your smile. They've been worried, Sam. They've been asking where it's gone."

Sam stayed prone on the bean bag. She had now lost the will to stand up. She closed her eyes, craving the sleep that brought her vision of the yo-yo. She heard the elevator door open.

She heard Carly.

"Freddie, can you help me? She 's– Freddie, what is that?"

Sam opened her eyes. Freddie was standing in front of her. And in his hand was a bright orange yo-yo. He held it out.

"Here, Sam. I know I haven't been around a lot, but I've been working. Every day. To get you this. I don't like seeing you like this I want the old Sam back."

Sam stared in disbelief. She stood up. She did something she never thought she would ever do. She ran to Freddie. And she hugged him. And she whispered.

"Thank you."

Freddie smiled.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that Sam realized something. She carefully placed the yo-yo on her bedside table and crawled beneath the covers. She smiled happily at the toy in the island of light provided by her lamp. She thought about that day in the store. She thought about the yo-yo. She thought about her dreams. And she realized something. It wasn't the yo-yo that made her happy.

It was that it was Freddie who had given it to her.

**I half-assed a homework assignment in order to write this. Please make the sacrifice to have not been in vain. Review.**


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